


Namesake

by Flynne



Series: Lynnie Amell [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Lynnie Amell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 07:23:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14636904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flynne/pseuds/Flynne
Summary: Lynnie has a secret. Alistair wants to know what it is.“You’re going to laugh at me.”Alistair sighed theatrically. “You are probably right, but you’re going to tell me anyway.”“Oh, I am, am I?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.“If you don’t do it now you know I’ll only wheedle it out of you later.” He grinned shamelessly. “I am an exceptionally skilled wheedler.”





	Namesake

Lynnie looked doubtfully at the loose button in her hand before giving a resigned little shrug and attempting to reattach it to the shirt in her lap. She’d warned Alistair that her sewing skills were shaky at best, but he’d flashed mournful eyes worthy of a mabari puppy at her and she’d relented. The heavy rain clouds that had been lingering for the past three days had prevented them from moving on, and it was as good a time as any to take time for small projects that had been neglected.

“You  _are_ perfectly capable of mending this yourself, you know,” she said, speaking to him over her shoulder. She was sitting cross-legged on the edge of her bedroll while he sprawled out behind her, hands folded behind his head as he gazed up at the top of the tent while the rain drummed steadily down.

“Oh, I know,” he replied airily. “But you’re doing it for me because you love me.”

Her cheeks flushed as a giddy smile lit her face, but she didn’t turn around. “You’ve been using that line a lot lately,” she teased. “It’s not going to work forever.”

He playfully tugged at her hair. “That may be true, but I’m going to get as much out of it as I can.”

Lynnie shook her head to swish the brown tail out of his grip, letting go of the shirt with one hand to reach behind and prod Alistair in the side with her finger. He yelped and squirmed out of reach, and she could hear the pout in his voice as he said, “That’s playing dirty!”

“How is that playing dirty?” she asked laughingly. “You pulled my hair!”

“Just a little bit! I didn’t jab at you with sharp pointy fingers.” He punctuated the last three words of his protest by pinching at her waist with both hands.

Lynnie let out a squeak and dropped the shirt entirely to catch hold of his wrists. “ _Now_ who’s playing dirty?”

“Guilty as charged. But look where it got me,” he said with a grin. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against him.

She laughed as he nuzzled behind her ear, but poked him in the side again and wriggled free of his clutches, half-turning to wag a playfully scolding finger in his face. “I’m trying to work, here! If you want to wrestle, wake Krogan.”

Alistair glanced over at the snoozing mabari and wrinkled his nose. “I’ll pass.”

She smirked. “You’re just afraid you’ll lose.”

“No, I’d just rather wrestle with you.”

“You’d  _still_ lose.”

“I’d be counting on it.” He gave her a mischievous grin but left her alone.

Lynnie gathered the dropped shirt into her hands again, making a few more passes with the thread until she decided she may as well tie it off. “Do me a favor, would you?” she asked. “There’s a shirt in my trunk with a torn seam. I may as well mend that while I’m at it. Could you get it for me? It’s the blue one, on the left side.”

“Your wish is my command.” He sat up and started rummaging through her things.

She snorted softly in amusement at his reply, murmuring an absent “Thank you,” as he found the garment and set it down next to her. She was dimly aware of a soft, curious “ _Hel_ -lo, what do we have here…?” from Alistair but didn’t acknowledge it, frowning uncertainly at the knot she’d tied. The button  _looked_ secure, but she honestly wasn’t sure how long it would hold.

Behind her, Alistair let out a burst of laughter. “Lynnie…what’s  _this?_ ”

She looked over her shoulder and froze, feeling her cheeks turn pink for the second time in ten minutes, but for an entirely different reason. “That,” she said, mustering as much dignity as she could, “is a mabari.”

Alistair turned the stuffed toy over in his hands, looking into its scuffed black button eyes. “I can see that. But where did it come from and why is it in your trunk?”

“It came from Kirkwall,” she replied, “and it’s in my trunk because I put it there.”

“This is how I know you’re really a mage. Because you provide explanations that don’t explain anything.”

She rolled her eyes, but set down her mending and scooted back to sit on the bedroll next to him. “He was mine when I was a little girl. I brought him with me when I came to the Circle.”

Alistair smirked, but the affection in his gaze softened the edge of his teasing. “And you…felt it necessary to bring him along when you assumed the mantle of a Grey Warden?”

“Well, he’d been with me for so long…” Lynnie reached out to take the mabari from Alistair’s hands. The brown fur was a little matted, but still soft. She hugged it against her stomach and gave him a sheepish smile. “I suppose you think it’s a little silly.”

“Not at all,” he said with deep solemnity. “I may be a grim warrior, impervious to all comers and merciless as the cold steel of my sword - ” Lynnie snorted, but he ignored her and kept going without missing a beat. “ - but even a hardened soul such as myself is not above acknowledging that certain items can hold sentimental value.”

“Well, that’s very big of you,” she said dryly.

“Yes, I know.” He gave her a sly grin. “Now, don’t think I didn’t notice that you called the stuffed mabari ‘him’ and not ‘it’. So I know he has a name. What is it?”

Lynnie lifted the stuffed toy and buried her face in its side. “You’re going to laugh at me.”

Alistair sighed theatrically. “You are probably right, but you’re going to tell me anyway.”

She lowered the mabari to her lap again. “Oh, I am, am I?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“If you don’t do it now you know I’ll only wheedle it out of you later.” He grinned shamelessly. “I am an exceptionally skilled wheedler.”

Lynnie tried to scowl at him but he waggled his eyebrows at her and she couldn’t keep a straight face. “You are incorrigible!”

“So does that mean you’ll tell me?”

“Yes, but only because I know you’ll plague my life out until I do. I’m doing this purely out of self-defense.”

“I will take what I can get.”

Lynnie sighed, stroking the toy mabari’s fuzzy head. “His name is Krogan.”

“Krogan?” Alistair blinked, gaze shifting from the stuffed toy to the giant mound of snoring hair and muscle and back again. “Krogan, as in  _that_ Krogan?” he pointed across the tent.

“Yes,” she replied loftily.

“You named a seasoned war hound after a stuffed toy?”

“I did.” She saw the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth and gave another amused but put-upon sigh. “Go on, laugh. I know you think it’s ridiculous.”

“Well, ordinarily I would,” he said with a grin, “but luckily for you, I am besotted and blinded by love and I find everything you do adorable.”

Lynnie groaned and rolled her eyes. “That was maudlin, even for you.”

“But I was adorable, right?”

She laughed, leaning over to bump his shoulder with her own. “Yes, you were adorable.”

“So, lucky for  _me_ that you are besott - ”

“Oh, no you don’t.” She planted her hand over his mouth, silencing him. “Once was enough.” She felt him smirk against her palm, but then the impish gleam in his eyes faded a little and the smirk turned into a kiss.

She gave him a fond look and removed her hand. “I’m not going to get any more work done today, am I?”

“None whatsoever.” Alistair gathered her into his arms, shifting back to lean comfortably against her trunk.

Lynnie hugged the stuffed Krogan against her chest and settled back against him with a sigh, nestling her head against his shoulder. “Well. Lucky for both of us, I’m okay with that.” 


End file.
